We're Only Liars // Peterick

☆I Saw My World Explode☆

*Hey my little Munchkin's! I got my motivation back, yay! All thanks to your cute ickle comments... nawr:') I love ya!*

Pete's POV

A piercing scream bombarded the house snapping me momentarily from my depressed state. Without any thought I shot up and stumbled back into the room, that I recently left, to find Patrick contorted in a tight ball like shape, eyes tense and fixated against the far wall that held the bed. Tears and sweat unidentable against his flushed skin, his pained screams drowned out my calling voice. I was too afraid to comfort him, not afraid for my own well being but generally afraid for his. Touch was possibly a bad idea anyway. I just had to sit it out and watch him struggle. I couldn't help but writh at that thought, however I had no choice. I had to wait.

~~~10-ish minutes later~~~

His heart tearing screams eventually died down and relaxed to a breathy whimper. He blinked his blue/green eyes a few times scanning the environment warily until they landed on me. His mouth gaped and then closed. Frustration etched on his face. He repeated this action once more before I realised he was attempting to speak. I brought my index finger slowly up to my pursed lips as I shook my head slightly. He blinked and reluctantly nodded. The silence was deafening between us, I was intrigued by how in sync our breathing became after a while.

At least he calmed down a bit even though I could still see his body shaking uncontrollably. I sighed and got up. I could feel his eyes burrow into the back of my skull when I reached into near the closet to gain a large cloth blanket. I turned to drape the cotton over his body, he finched as it fell over him but he didn't make a sound. I re-sat beside him and held my palm out once again, Patrick's stare was so intense that the hairs on my nape stood on end. I felt so much ache for him as he brought his hand from under the blanket to join with mine.

My pained smile was met with the strange warmth his moist hand brought to me, a slight tingle as electric as his eyes. His beautiful eyes. Though at this present time his eyes seemed sunken and dull, the beauty remained but they were shadowed with the gloom of fear. The fear was so demanding, paranoia seemed to take him over. He flinched at any distant sound or any near movement, his grip tightened around mine each and every time. I held back, I felt so guilty for leaving him earlier. The regret was choking me.

"Wh-.." Patrick whispered solemnly. "Where..where we-were you?" His blue/green searched mine for an answer, I just stared silently back unable to say why I wasn't there for him when he woke, like I said I would be.

Patrick let his eyes drop suddenly along with his grip on my hand, I watched in awe as he turned away from me. All I could see was his cloth ridden back, his dishelved dirty blonde hair and the bare minimum of warmth left in my palm. He was upset, upset with my broken promise, upset with my false words, upset with me. Who could blame him?

Your such an idiot, you know that right? You thought of your own pathetic feelings before Patrick's, your best friend.

I didn't want the state I was in to be the first thing he saw.

Well the first thing he saw should of been you, not the lonely emptiness he faced on his own when you selfishly ran off.

Don't argue with me, your not even real. Let me sort this out without you.

I hated that voice, I really did.

Slowly I regained my posture and walked around to reface him. My steps were short and spaced together, I really didn't want to frighten him. But when I did reach Patrick, his focus was aimed at the floor evidentially in the opposite direction to my stance which loomed directly ahead of him. He was dragging his nails against the hard floor when I shifted my body to roll down next to him. My hands snaked restlessly with one another as I waited for a reaction which never appeared. Patrick's nails clawed the wood continuously, light trails of white left behind after each scratch. He seemed unfazed by the small amount of blood that now joined line after line, his stare was held against his reddened tips yet he remained with that endeavour of obvious pain.